Author's Notes: A lot of people have been asking why Fuji needs to meddle in Tezuka and Saeki's business when they could be doing well without the tensai's "help". This chapter will answer that question and hopefully will suffice. I read every comment you drop and I will try my best to incorporate them in here, as long as I'm not sacrificing my personal style of writing. Thank you for leaving comments and I hope you don't stop telling me what you want to. If you want replies, contact me in my LJ.

Disclaimers: I do not own anything here except Saeki and Tezuka's silver chains and the plot itself. Everything Tennis no Oujisama belongs to Konomi-sama.

Silver Chains

Chapter Four: Beach, Bullshit and A Reason to Meddle

The sun was up high and no clouds were present in the sky. Birds flew, dancing in the air. Waves crashed beautifully on the sand, as if kissing the shore.

It was a perfect day for surfing.

"Are you sure?"

The tensai smiled. "They taught me how to surf a long time ago, Jiroh. Plus, I like watching the waves rather than surfing on them."

"If you say so…" Jiroh gave one last wave to his companion before running towards the water, surf board in hand.

Fuji smiled softly.

Hyotei's resident narcoleptic was eagerly listening to Kurobane as he was briefed on the basics of surfing. Jiroh looked like a child who had been given a new toy or something like that. He didn't even mind Davide's constant interruptions, punning at every opportunity. Jiroh looked like a child who had been given a new toy or something like that. Suddenly, he missed being a child.

"Memories, Syusuke?"

He turned around and saw his longtime best friend in blue Hawaiian short and completely unbuttoned matching polo. Fuji gestured to the place beside him.

"Saa… something like that."

Saeki let his back rest on the sandy shore, watching tensai in the corner of his eyes. The scene did bring back some fond memories. Memories of childhood – when Kurobane and Davide would try their hand in teaching the Kisarazu twins how to surf. And they would just sit in he sand, watching – Fuji watching their friends, Saeki watching Fuji.

Just like today.

He watched him again, just as he watched him a gazillion times before. He watched as those honey locks flew with the wind. Watched as those soft hands – soft even after years of playing tennis – would try to prevent his hair from flying. Watched as blue eyes would sometimes open, then close as if it never opened at all.

How he loved watching this person…

"Enjoying your view?"

Saeki just smiled, used to the teasing, eyes coming in contact with those of the same color. He propped himself up, sitting close to the tensai. Reaching for Fuji's hand, he took it gently into his own and gave it a light squeeze.

"I love you, Syusuke."

"Three jacks."

"One queen."

"Two kings."

Golden eyes flashed. "Bullshit, monkey king."

There was silence, deafening it was. Atobe glared at the other, hating the nickname, gathering at all the cards lay on top of the bed. "Brat," he spat. How dare this person do such a thing to ore-sama!

"Rules are rules, monkey king," Echizen said, smirking at the reaction the little nickname produced. "Ace."

Yaru jan, he thought. When the Hyotei Buchou dragged – yes, dragged – him to a plane to Germany, he had kicked and glared at Atobe and at his boyfriend. Talk to Tezuka, was Fuji's instruction – his smile laced with pleading.

Yeah right, he had shot back. How could he talk to the stoic captain, his rival – fine, former rival – to Fuji's heart? How could he talk to a person who he knew still couldn't let go of his boyfriend? Fuji was really asking too much.

Not that he could ever say 'no'.

"Two twos."

"Oi, matte! Ore-sama isn't finished arranging his cards!"

"Mada mada da ne, monkey king. You're too slow."

"Ryoma looks up to Tezuka. I wouldn't say revere, but in a way, he idolizes him."

Atobe raised an eyebrow at the memory of the tensai's words. Perhaps Fuji was right in the "looks up to Tezuka" part. But idolizing someone and respecting someone were two different worlds to the freshman. Especially since Echizen was very protective of his property.

Not that he could argue, Atobe thought. With Tezuka and Saeki as his former rivals, there was a reason why Echizen acted the way he did.

Childish, yes. But when did love give us the opportunity to think straight?

"Four threes."

And everything, the Hyotei Buchou thought, everything just made it all the more difficult to have a proper conversation.

The wind blew hard and cold.

"I love you, Syusuke."

He could not be mistaken that those words had come from Saeki. His best friend was in front of him when he spoke those words. It was a clear and audible collection of notes.

This could not be happening, Fuji thought. This should not be happening.

"I know this might sound cliché," Saeki started, eyes still boring into his, hands still holding his. "But the moment I laid my eyes on you all those years ago, I have fallen for you, Syusuke."

"Koji…"

The silver haired put a finger over his lips. "Let me finish," he said. And without waiting the other to agree, he continued. "But you never took my advances seriously. Perhaps because we were too familiar. Perhaps it was because I wasn't strong enough in tennis. Whatever it was, I didn't know."

Slender hands caressed Fuji's face, lingering. "That's why that day you and your family moved to Tokyo, I promised to myself that I'd be strong. That one day I would be able to be worthy of you."

Saeki paused, eyes finally leaving Fuji's to look at their hands. "But then, Kunimitsu came."

"Bullshit, Echizen. Bullshit."

The freshman rolled his eyes as he reached out to get the cards in front of him. How many rounds had they gone through, he wondered. He glanced at the stoic buchou in front of him. Not even a change in expression.

Tezuka arranged his cards, deciding to fake or not. It was easy, he thought, to play this game when Fuji wasn't around. No one was there to read him. He could easily lie about whatever he was about to put down.

But there was an uneasy atmosphere and he knew it was the unspoken tension between him and Echizen. Not that he could blame the freshman. He hadn't really answered that last question he had asked him.

Yet what could he have done? Lied? Even he hadn't decided what the answer was.

"So, Tezuka," came Atobe's voice, startling him a bit. "How's Sae doing?"

Earth eyes blinked. Now where had that come from?

Running his fingers through his hair, he feigned nonchalance. At the corner of his eye, he glared at the brat beside him. Useless brat, he thought.

Really. Does ore-sama have to do everything?

"He's doing fine. But aren't you the one who's supposed to know better, Atobe? After all, you are with Kojiroh in Japan."

Echizen snickered. "Those are a lot of words, buchou. Never thought you could speak more than two sentences."

Atobe just had to grin. Sure, his question was a little stupid but it did clear the atmosphere, didn't it?

He had to say it. He knew it just had to it now. Because if he didn't do it now, he didn't know when he'd get the courage to do so again.

"It was instant gravitation, wasn't it, Syu?" he continued, remembering everything as if it were yesterday. "But I didn't want to give you up. I had worked so hard to be the strong person you might someday love, I wasn't about to just give you to Kunimitsu. No, I had to fight for you."

Suddenly, Fuji thought, everything fit into place. All those unexplained tension, all those unexplained sudden appearances in Seigaku…

How had he been blind to the love Saeki had offered all along?

"Are you two together now?"

Tezuka raised an eyebrow. "Together?" Really, Atobe was really asking him such stupid questions. "How could we be together? He's in Japan, I'm in Germany."

Atobe almost dropped his cards. Echizen almost slapped his head.

This was going to be a real difficult job.

A small laugh escaped his lips and from the look on his best friend's face, he knew he had taken him by surprise. "We didn't really get to fight for you, you know. Somehow instead of becoming rivals, we have become friends."

Fuji could not help but smile even though there was a knife stabbing him inside. He had caused pain and he didn't even know it. He had caused suffering, the suffering of his own best friend.

"And somehow, it was just right to clasp his hand in mine."

Making sure that his cards were in order and would not fall, he turned to the object of their visit. "You really are dense, aren't you, Tezuka?"

Tezuka raised an eyebrow. "Dense, Atobe? What am I dense about?"

"About everything, buchou." Echizen sighed. Why, he asked himself again, why did he agree to do this for his boyfriend? "Sure, the questions monkey king asked were really stupid —"

"They are not stupid!"

"—but I'm sure you're not stupid enough not to understand what they really mean."

Earth eyes met golden ones, each one staring deep into the other. There were so many things left unsaid between them, so many words they knew that needed to be said. One wanted them said, the other needed them heard. Yet both knew there would probably never come a time that those words would be said.

Pause.

Stop.

Rewind.

Play.

"And somehow, it was just right to clasp his hand in mine."

A moment ago, they were talking about how he, Fuji Syusuke, had unknowingly broken Saeki's heart. A moment ago, he was feeling guilty for not even getting the slightest wind about what the Rokkaku fukubuchou had felt for him. Then suddenly…

The next thing he knew, Saeki was saying something about holding Tezuka's hand?

The tensai's cerulean eyes blinked. What the hell was happening!

"Could you kindly elaborate on that, Kojiroh? I'm not following your trend of thought."

Saeki laughed sheepishly. He brought his knees closer to him, hands wrapping around them. His eyes were watching Kurobane and Davide surf the tides with Jiroh, but his thoughts were clearly elsewhere.

"We saw that match you had with Echizen," he started, remembering the events in exact detail. "We were watching from afar, but we could hear your voices perfectly. I don't remember my heart breaking into a million pieces, but I remember that his did…"

He remembered how Tezuka's face tried not to show the emotions that were trying to break free. He remembered how tears were held at bay. He remembered the pain, the anguish, the heart ache. He remembered them clearly indeed.

Fuji didn't know how to react, how to begin saying that he hadn't wanted what had happened. He wanted to say something in self-defense but he couldn't find a way to justify himself.

Because there was no way to justify the pain he caused.

"But it felt right, y'know. It felt right to hold his hand as you and Echizen walked away. It felt right to just hold his hand as his tears flowed. It felt right."

Yes, he thought. It really did.

"He didn't let go?"

Saeki shook his head.

"Are you content in just holding his hand and not doing anything, Kojiroh?"

He said nothing. He wasn't sure he was supposed to say anything.

Fuck, Atobe thought. He couldn't take it anymore.

How long were they supposed to stare into each other's eyes, having that silent conversation? He didn't fly all the way to Germany just for a stupid staring game!

"Oh for the life of me, stop staring at each other! I didn't drag that half-wit brat almost halfway around the world for a staring match, bird brain," he said, obviously pissed off, the last word referring to Tezuka.

Echizen had to smirk at the way their other companion had just addressed the stoic buchou. No one – not even his boyfriend – had ever dared to call Tezuka a 'bird brain'.

"The question, buchou, is this." He paused dramatically. Damn, he thought, his father had really rubbed off on him. He swore never to watch another romantic flick with the monk again. "Do you like Saeki-san or not?"

Perhaps, the Hyotei buchou thought, the brat wasn't bad after all.

"Kojiroh's my friend – why would I be friends with someone I don't like?"

Or not.

It was clear, Atobe knew now, that when asking Tezuka anything that concerned his feelings towards another person, the question had to be really direct to the point.

"Let's rephrase that, shall we, Tezuka?"

A nod.

Hopeless, the freshman thought. Totally hopeless.

Atobe tried to appear as calm as possible. He tried not to try his new serve on Tezuka's head. "Do you or do you not want to kiss Saeki and fuck him till he is rendered incapacitated?"

"No."

"Do you want him to slip away?"

"No."

He didn't, dammit. He had enough of silent love, of unrequited love.

"Then why don't you tell him? It doesn't only feel right, doesn't it, Kojiroh? You know it's right."

Yes, he thought. Fuji was right. It wasn't just feeling anymore. It was knowing. He knew it was right – in his heart, he knew it was right. It was like finally coming home. When he was with Tezuka, it felt like he was home.

Saeki's sea eyes closed, letting his forehead rest between his knees.

But…

"I can't," he whispered. "I can't, Syusuke."

"How's Ryoma?"

"The brat's sleeping in the next room. He played with Tezuka all afternoon."

The tensai raised an eyebrow. "Played tennis with Tezuka? Won't that put a lot of burden on his shoulder?"

"We played bullshit, not tennis, Fuji."

"Bullshit?"

"Ahn."

"Oh."

"How's Jiroh?"

"He's sleeping, too. Got exhausted from surfing."

"He surfed?"

"Bane and Amane taught him. Don't worry. He's still in one piece." He walked toward the window, thinking it was good that Saeki was helping his mother prepare dinner downstairs. Really, Saeki's mom was a darling. "So what happened?"

Atobe flipped his hair, settling down the fluffy bed of the suite his family owned in Germany. "I don't know what you saw in that blockhead, Fuji. He's too dense."

The tensai just chuckled.

"Anyway, I had to ask him directly. The other method wasn't working."

"What did you ask him?" A pause. "Scratch that. How did you ask him?"

"I asked whether he wanted to kiss and fuck Saeki till the poor boy is rendered incapacitated."

Fuji laughed. What a nice way of phrasing it directly. Straight to the point, he thought.

"And?"

"It's a yes."

"Oh? And he answered that directly as well?" Fuji was ready to make a bet that Tezuka didn't.

"He blushed. Oh stop chuckling, for goodness sake! It was enough an answer, baka!"

"Saa…" He reined in his chuckle, face resuming its usual smiling nonchalance. "Is he going to do anything about it?"

Atobe sighed. "Unfortunately, not yet. He says it isn't the right time. Something about doing that after his shoulder's healed." He kicked his shoes off, wanting to settle on the bed more. Talking to an incredibly dense person was tiring. "What about Sae?"

The tensai on the other line was silent, mind whirling with ideas. He knew it wasn't his place to meddle further, seeing how those two were going well. But there were circumstances that were pushing him to do so. Like the one Saeki was in.

"I need to talk to Tezuka personally, Atobe. I need to be there tomorrow."

Teal eyes blinked, one his eyebrows raised. "What's the hurry, Fuji? Tezuka said he's going to tell Sae anyway, right? We don't need to –"

"Kojiroh's not planning on doing anything, more so accept Tezuka."

"Huh? Why not?" This was getting frustrating and confusing, he thought.

Fuji gripped his cell phone tighter, cerulean eyes open. "Kojiroh's moving to Egypt."

"So?" He didn't get it, really.

"For good."

"Oh."

"By the time Tezuka comes home, he'll be miles away." A smile curved Fuji's lips, the smile the tensai was known for when he had a plan in mind. "It seems, Atobe, that destiny needs a little push."

"With Tezuka, you'll need a hard push. Trust me, Fuji."

"Oh?" There was a teasing lilt on that voice, the seriousness gone.

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!"

Fuji chuckled, yet his mind was already working out how to fix things. If Atobe was right and not just a little push was in order, he needed every inch of convincing power he had to persuade Tezuka.

He wasn't about to just stand on the sidelines and see them suffer again.

It was his reason to meddle.

Justified or not, it was his reason.

Tsuzuku…